The Way Out of Limbo
by msbaileyquarters
Summary: Matt Murdock wakes up in a convent, miles away from where everyone thought he had taken his last breath. To his surprise, Jessica Jones of all people has found him. With her help, he will try to investigate what happened at Midland Circle, why he is still alive, Elektra's whereabouts, and why someone is seemingly trying to send him back to the grave. Mattica stuff. Post-Defenders.
1. Lost and Found

If you don't want to sue me, ignore this next paragraph….

DISCLAIMER: I claim no ownership or other rights in the characters, plots, or other intellectual property of Netflix, ABC, or Marvel. Instead I claim right under the Fair Use Doctrine to write stories involving certain characters to provide a different characterization that may actually shed light on different aspects or to provide a deeper understanding of those characters, and thus to provide a different viewpoint or richer understanding of—and thus renewed or greater interest in-the original source material. I do nothing with the intent to be financially compensated.

Anyway, on to the show….

Chapter One

Everything was a jumble. Fuzzy, indistinct. For the first time in a long time his in-tact senses were dulled; only the barest of details were registering in his mind. He was lying down, on something narrow. He could smell smoke, but only faintly. Like from a candle or fireplace. He heard various noises…mostly of people—women—talking. Every now and then he felt a hand touch his forehead or knew the wrappings around different parts of his body were removed and fresh ones took their place. But he was just too damn weak to try and sit up and focus his senses, to try and figure out exactly where he was.

He was also fed regularly. Cream of wheat with pancake syrup. Funny. He loved to have that for breakfast when he was young. It brought back indistinct, random memories each time the hot cereal was spooned into his mouth. It was one source of comfort to him in his unknown place, even though he did not feel a general sense of danger from where he was.

His memory of who, what, where, and when from before this time would come to him in bursts, and would then just as quickly disappear beneath the surface. He was just so damn tired. Maybe he was dead. Maybe this was the Rest in Peace after one's death and funeral. The chance to take a breath after all the ups and downs of living.

He saw the angels around him. The beings who would come and tend to him. They were soft, indistinct forms at first, but after a while they became…nuns. They had to be. Softly saying encouraging things to him, loving and caring. Maybe this is what happens to nuns after their died? Matt mused.

Matt slept most of the time. His more distinct memories would often flare up in his dreams, but then be gone by morning. Remnants were starting to stick to his consciousness: pain, the smell of smoke, the muddy water beneath his boots. The woman with the accented voice.

That woman would cause something inside him to jolt. Hearing her voice would often cause him to wake from a dream or cry out in his bed. There was intense…feeling that would course through his body when he thought of her.

He awoke one morning and startled at the outline of seemingly one of the nuns, outlined in the fiery screen though which he had his only sense of the appearance of the world around him. The figure was white oval surrounded by black, leaning over his bed. He presumed he would start to hear the Lord's Prayer, or a question about his comfort or if he wanted something to eat, like he had heard countless times by then.

Instead, the voice was a strangely familiar one. "How you doing, Devil Boy?"

Matt sat up in his bed. What muddled vision he had could just make out her figure: the jacket, the tight jeans, boots….

"Moreover, how the hell did you end up in a place like this?"

"Is that?" Matt canted his head to the right. "Ms….Jones?"

"In the flesh." She managed to find enough space on the left edge of his bed to sit down on.

"Are you…dead?"

Jessica made a face at that, despite knowing he couldn't see it. "I wish."

"Why…how…are you here?"

Jessica looked away. "It took a while but I tracked you down. …Your friend Pollyana Pocket hired me."

This time it was Matt's turn to look (increasingly) confused.

"Yeah, sorry, that was a bit obscure. Ms. Karen Page hired me to find you."

"Oh." A flood of emotions poured across his face. Karen noticed his Adam's apple move up and down as he swallowed. "Karen."

Jessica's eyes narrowed. "You remember her, right?"

After a few more beats, Matt shook his head. "Is she….Is she okay?"

"Yeah. She's fine."

After there was no further explanation forthcoming from Jessica, a flood of questions came from Matt.

"I don't really have any idea how you got here. I mean, the whole we had good reason to believe you had kicked the bucket thing. Otherwise, from what it sounds like from these tight-lipped penguins, is one them found you sprawled out on 1st Avenue *near* but not quite at death's door. They took you in and have been nursing you ever since. Again, how the fuck you got above ground and all the way across Manhattan, much less still breathing, is beyond me."

Matt frowned at the penguin comment. He could remember calling nuns that when we was…five, maybe. But if they were the reason he had been saved and was currently being taken care of, he had nothing but gratitude and praise for the unknown sisters.

"Where am I exactly?" he asked of Jessica.

She sighed as she stood up. "The Convent of the Sisters of Our Lady of Sorrow. So ironically the perfect place for you to end up."

"How long has it been since…Middleland?"

Jessica's brow furrowed. "Uh, the showdown at Midland Circle? About three and a half months."

Matt was dumbfounded. "Three and a half…. And everyone…this whole time….has thought I, I was dead?"

"Well, some of us had our suspicions."

Matt said no more, but only sagged back into his narrow bed, his eyes appearing even more devoid of…something, than they usually did.

"Murdock?" But there was no response.

Jessica shifted her jaw as she considered her options. She cursed under her breath as she drew away from Matt's bed. She traded glances with a nun who had been eyeing her suspiciously the whole time she had been there.

Sometimes the best way to get information was to just confront things head on. Jessica tried and failed to put on her best innocent face as she approached the woman. "Sister…?"

"Maggie, my child." Her tone didn't match the endearing term.

Jessica motioned back to Matt. "Has he said anything indicating where he was before you all found him?"

"Not particularly. I found him myself, and have been keeping a close watch on him while he has been here. He hasn't said much at all. Has cried at times. Prays occasionally, but he mostly sleeps. His memory doesn't seem to have improved much in the last month he's been here."

"Wait, he's only been here a month?"

"Yes. You are the first person he has concretely responded to."

Before Jessica could ask more, the sister somewhat diplomatically said that visiting hours were over, and that Matt was tired and needed his rest. She thought this very weird, but didn't object to leaving then. She would be back.


	2. Putting It Together

A/N: Sorry about the long hiatus. Grad school can kill all your free time. But winter break is coming up so hopefully updates will be more frequent. Anyway, on to the show...

Chapter 2

Jessica sipped her Baileys-sweetened black coffee as she eyed the brick building suspiciously. She was sitting in the diner kitty-corner from the convent where Matt (ostensibly) was.

Granted, she didn't grow up Catholic or really knew anyone who was; her parents had been Baptists, even though they had stopped attending services by the time she was 10. She didn't really know what to expect, yet the pattern of activity around the convent still seemed strange.

She had only seen one nun coming or going from the building in the past week. A younger looking nun who dressed in librarian garb rather than the traditional black and white habit. She seemed nervous, but it was hard to tell if that was naturally a part of her demeanor or if she was nervous for a particular reason.

Then there were the frequent deliveries of packages of all shapes and sizes to the convent. Some delivered by name-brand carriers; most by way of some sort of courier service with delivery guys in street clothes. Not at all suspicious.

Plumes of smoke regularly rose from chimney pipes in the roof. Sometimes they were a dark gray color, and other times white as snow. She was guessing they weren't picking the next Pope in there.

Jessica's internet sleuthing revealed that the Sisters of Our Lady of Sorrow had occupied the building for the past forty plus years. They had a website-some crude Geocities holdout from about twenty years ago-that talked about some of their philanthropy work (specifically helping the poor and homeless, which she surmised they thought included Matt), their general mission, how to donate, a form to submit prayer requests. That sort of thing. There was a bio for their Mother Superior but no info on the other nuns who called the convent home. Definitely nothing on Sister Maggie. She wasn't even in any of the few group photos featured on the site, as far as Jessica could tell.

Jessica had tried twice since she last saw Matt to pay him another visit, but both times she was turned away by ol' Maggie herself. "Matthew is too ill to receive visitors." She was either their assigned doorwoman and bouncer, or it was a weird coincidence.

Hopefully, though, third time would be the charm... 

* * *

There was something about her. A familiar way of talking peppered with recognized sayings and words. A scent faintly similar to something from before. A gentle touch...

"Alright Mattie, do you think you can swing those legs over and try to walk?"

He felt so weak. He wasn't sure and said so. From the shift in the air and the faint outline he could tell she was shaking her head. "You can, my son. He will give you strength."

Matt took a deep breath. He started with trying to sit up in bed. Attempts to sit up before were often met with a stinging pain in his head and a dull one in his chest, as well as a crushing dizziness. But the Sister had always been there, supplying a helping hand or encouraging words.

The same nun always seemed to be attentive to him. He frequently heard her voice near him.

What was her interest in him? Why was she so familiar? The only nuns Matt could remember from his past were the older nuns who attended Mass and served the community from the church at which he and his father were parishioners. This woman didn't seem that old...if any of those women were even still alive.

Matt huffed another breath and strained his muscles to try again. The Sister reached out to steady him, "It's alright. Your Blessed Father will give you strength."

He strained as much as he good, but it wasn't enough. He slammed back into the meager mattress. It was so strange. It was as if some invisible, strong hands were forcing him down, pushing him against the mattress. God, he was tired.

What was that? Matt felt something on the Sister's wrist as her arms were outstretched, steadying him. His hand circled her wrist, feeling the bracelet there. It felt like yarn or string, several strands braided together. There was a funny bulge on one side-an intricate knot with twisting loops...

Matt's hand stilled. He was suddenly not on a bed in a nunnery, but back in the small kitchen of the Hell's Kitchen apartment, sitting at the round chestnut table, his fingers fumbling with different colored strings. His father thought the different colors would help to keep things straight as Matt practiced.

He was so proud when he figured out the double sheet bend knot. His scout leader would be pleased. He held it aloft when his father came in the room.

"Look dad!" His father had beamed down at him and ruffled his hair.

"Hey Mags, he finally got it," his father called behind him. Margaret Murdock stepped out from behind the kitchen counter, kitchen towel in hand. "Well my gosh look at that! I'm proud of you Mattie!"

Mattie…. The voices and images faded away, and he was back in the present. He focused his still weakened senses. It had to be. It had to be her.

"Mom?"

The Sister started to fluff his pillow and fiddle with this sheets. "No dear, I am not the Mother Superior, that's Mother Agatha. She is not here today."

"No, that's not what I meant. Are you…are you my mom?"

There was a beat. Just a moment, in which the sister's heart beat jumped. "No M—my son. I am afraid not. Just a kind old woman here to help."

Matt said nothing. He didn't know what to say. He was too dumbfounded to go beyond that initial but so fundamental question.

"You don't look well, my son. Let me get you some medicine." The nun moved away.


	3. What's Inside?

Chapter 3

For several days Jessica had been trailing one delivery guy in particular who seemed to regularly make a lot of deliveries to the convent. Scruffy looking guy, maybe early 20s, maybe even younger. Always wore a backward baseball cap, ears always plugged with earphones. He was often coming from a small brownstone in the Bronx. Strictly residential space, according to a quick database search.

As he was making one of his very clandestine-seeming deliveries, Jessica confronted him. She was going to claim to be be a disgruntled customer who lived in the area and had received one too many late or damaged deliveries-something along those lines...until he bolted the minute she approached him and started to speak.

"Oh wrong move buddy," Jessica muttered just before she sprinted after him.

Despite being about a decade older than him, she was able to catch up to him within a half mile. Well, being able to jump far/semi-fly probably helped a bit.

"Hey, I just want to talk! I'm not the police-" but he had managed to stretch and pull his clothing out of her grasp. Some of his packages fell to the ground in the effort, though. She shook her head. Why the hell did he run? Who did he think she was?

Jessica caught her breath before bending down to inspect the dropped parcels. They were two small packages and a standard-size, cushioned shipping envelope. There was nothing on the packaging to indicate what carrier was handling them. In fact, two of the three didn't even have return addresses. Didn't matter though; one of them was addressed to the convent. 

* * *

The side door to the convent creaked open and, much to Jessica's relief, it wasn't sister Maggie standing there. Instead of Maggie's scrutinizing stare, large, glassy eyes gazed back at her. "Hello?" The young nun's voice was so small, whispery. But Jessica could hear the confusion in it.

"Hey, I have a package for delivery." Jessica held up the 7x4 inch package for her to see, but didn't hand it over to her.

"Uh. You're not our usual delivery person..."

"Yeah, he had an emergency, couldn't finish his route today. I'm filling in for him." The girl didn't seem to recognize her, but then Jessica didn't recall seeing her the one time she actually able to get in and see Matt.

The young nun's eye darted between Jessica and the package several times, then she twisted around and looked behind her for several moments, as if looking around in the dark for someone.

"Uh, is Mother Superior here to accept delivery?"

The girl reached out tentatively for the package. "I can take it..."

Jessica drew back a little. "Sorry, Mother Superior has to sign for it. That's what my boss told me."

The girl's eyes widened a bit at that last statement. "Oh, I will go fetch her then."

The young nun turned and receded into the narrow hallway behind the door. Jessica noticed she had been careless enough to not only not lock the door but leave it open a crack. Another fortunate turn of events: She was going to try and discuss Matt's situation with Mother Superior, then decide on other less diplomatic options to execute later if it turned out Mother Agatha had the same people skills as Maggie.

But now... Jessica peaked through the ajar door and saw and heard no one. She gingerly opened the door, trying to avoid any obvious creaks. She stepped inside. "Hello?" She said only loud enough for someone within her immediate area to hear.

She listened. The place sounded pretty dead. No noises indicating any sort of business, religious, or social activity.

Jessica looked around her. She headed down the narrow hallway to her left, opposite an equally narrow staircase leading up to the second story, which she guessed was likely where the girl went to retrieve her boss.

Jessica kept her head down and ears open. She tred lightly across the creaky floorboards of the old brick building. Unfortunately she had made her entrance by the front door last time, so sue had no familiarity with the place's back passageways. She needed to find the "Rest Room," as they called it.

Jessica ducked into an empty room when she heard voices behind her, around the corner she had just turned. But they faded away without anyone passing by the room. Jessica copped a peak and, not perceiving anyone around, continued on her search.

The convent's poor lighting and few windows easily gave the place an eerie feel. It was also quite cold, despite not being that chilly outside that day. Jessica assumed the donations the place got barely covered their expenses. Or they were deliberately trying to be creepy.

Jessica rounded another corner and nearly smashed into an older, African-American nun.

"Oh God, I'm sorry..." Jessica wasn't' sure what to say, uncertain as to what this nun's reaction would be to seeing her; she couldn't recall if this woman had been there the day she visited Matt.

Apparently she had: "You are the girl who visited little Mattie, are you not?"

 _Little Mattie_? "Uhh, yeah..."

To Jessica's surprise, the nun smiled. "Are you here to see him again?" 

* * *

The nun stopped before the door of a long hall, in which there were several cafeteria-style tables. At one of these, closer to the door, was Matt.

"Ah, there he is. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

"Uh, thanks?" Jessica responded as the nun simply smiled, then stepped away. As she approached Matt, there were other charity cases and nuns in the room, yet none of them seemed concerned with her presence. In fact, another of the sisters smiled warmly at her as well.

Come to think of it, she could not recall anyone else at the convent being as hostile toward her as Sister Maggie, but she assumed the other sisters had the same attitude, for whatever reason.

She stepped up to Matt and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Murdock? It's me, Jessica."

Matt said nothing, as he spooned another portion of what appeared to be porridge into his mouth. "Uh, you alright, Devil Boy?"

Matthew continued to focus on his breakfast. Jessica sat down next to him at the table. Unfortunately, he looked more out of it than he did when she last saw him. He looked as if he hadn't slept, or...

She moved closer to him. "Matt, are you okay?"

Finally, Matt acknowledged her presence by turning in her direction. "J-Jess? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. Are you okay?"

"I think so. Just..." Matt trailed off. He started itching his left arm more vigorously than seemed normal to Jessica, which piqued her curiosity. Gently, she rolled up his sleeve to see what might be there.

The track marks along the inside crook of his arm certainly not what she was expecting to find.


End file.
